


Procedures

by Ailette



Category: Primeval
Genre: Imported, M/M, Mention of Helen, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-04-29
Updated: 2009-04-29
Packaged: 2018-06-05 05:36:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6691708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ailette/pseuds/Ailette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pre-series; Nick Cutter had never really cared for blue eyes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Procedures

Nick Cutter had never really cared for blue eyes. He hadn’t ever really cared about any aspect of other people’s features, to be entirely honest. The usual process was to become interested in a person, notice all the small details about them and then later really fall in love with them. For Nick Cutter, the development of a relationship was different. It was still the same three steps, just in a different order.

1) He became interested in a person.

2) He fell in love with them.

3) He began to see all the small things in their appearance that made him love them even more.

After what felt like the third time in a month that Helen had changed her hair-cut without Nick noticing, she'd finally snapped and angrily asked him if he even knew her eye colour, or if he lived in complete obliviousness as to what his girlfriend actually looked like. Nervous, he’d guessed green. She hadn’t talked to him for nearly two weeks after that. After one month of marriage, he knew where every little birthmark hid on his wife’s body, the way she filed her nails just a tad too pointy for his liking and the exact shade of deep brown her eyes had.

After she had vanished, he lost interest in those details again. Some colleagues from work had taken pity on him after the term had ended and dragged him along to the Black Horse. One of the waitresses had done her best to entertain the mostly elderly professors (no doubt hoping for a nice tip), though the Head of English Literature would later scathingly remark that she might as well just have sat there and look pretty. They were all talking about how her eyes were a wonderful shade of blue and that really, she was a natural blonde? They could hardly believe that.

No, Nick just couldn’t see the appeal of blue eyes. He saw them every time he looked into the mirror and couldn’t help but think them ordinary. Green or brown; yes, those were beautiful colours.

“Professor?”

Easily taking his eyes off the waitress, Nick turned to be greeted by the sight of one of his students. No, he wasn’t his student any more, actually. He'd graduated at the end of last term if he remembered correctly. What was his name again? He’d seen him at Helen’s funeral too, so he must have also been one of hers. By the looks of him, he definitely must have caught her eye; she probably mentioned him at some point. Slightly puzzled, he regarded the outstretched hand.

“Yes?” 

Any worry that the younger man might be offended by the rather sparse reply vanished when he simply smiled in return and lowered his hand like nothing had happened.

“Stephen Hart. I’m your new lab assistant from next week on.”

Dimly, Nick remembered the Dean telling him something about an assistant and that it was about - pardon the expression - _darn_ time the Head of Evolutionary Zoology got one. Did he mention a date?

“Of course,” Nick agreed belatedly. It wouldn’t do him good to come off as scatterbrained as he truly was sometimes on the first real introduction.

“I didn’t want to imply that you didn’t know who I was, but with all the students you see every term … Anyway, I’m sorry to interrupt. I’ll see you on Monday, Professor Cutter.” 

With that, he leaned forward just a fraction and squeezed Nick’s hand with both of his as it hung loosely from the back of the chair before he turned back to the group of chattering drunken students. Somewhere in the back of his head, Nick recalled that he should have answered with some appropriate pleasantries, but he found himself staring at the now empty spot centimetres above him where Hart’s face had been just now. 

He didn’t appreciate blue eyes, but Hart’s had seemed nearly unnaturally so, leaving a negative afterimage in their wake. When he turned back to the table, he still wasn’t interested in praising the waitress’s features; instead he thought of how many of his work procedures would have to change because of this young man. 

Maybe not just _work_ procedures, either.

**Author's Note:**

> (Originally posted at http://ailette.livejournal.com/39755.html)  
> Beta:fififolle


End file.
